


Dress

by flippantninny



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:38:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2166075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippantninny/pseuds/flippantninny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the one word prompt 'Dress'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dress

They were running. Running as fast as they could. The herd was huge and it was gaining momentum and if they could get to the car they would be fine but Daryl could see Beth slowing down, running out of breath.

"This way!" he yelled, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to the left. He pushed against the door to the first store he saw. It didn’t budge. "Shit," he muttered, "try the next one," he yelled to Beth, who started running, he followed close behind. She ran into the door, momentum pushing her, her hand grabbing the handle, it gave. Daryl chased her in, slamming the door behind them and fumbling with the lock. It clicked just as they saw walkers appear at the end of the street.

"C’mon," he said, pulling her further into the store. She looked around, taking in what the store was. White surrounded them. White chiffon and white silk and more taffeta than Beth had ever seen in her life.

"These are wedding dresses," Beth said, walking over to the nearest one and running her fingers through the fabric.

"Mhmm" Daryl grunted, searching the store for something he could use to board up the window, pushing dresses aside and grabbing a clothing rack he thought he could use to secure the door. They didn’t know how long they would have to wait for the hoard to pass.

"Daryl, be careful," Beth said.

Daryl turned to look at her, confused as to what she was telling him to be careful of. He was being careful, he was making them more secure, that was what careful was.

"You’re getting dirt on the dresses," she said.

Daryl looked at the dresses he’d just pushed aside, now adorned with grey smudges.

"So? Ain’t gonna be worn now," he said. Daryl had been to a few wedding in his life, and they were all pretty much the same. Usually the bride was knocked up, the wedding dress was bought from a discount store, the groom was drunk, and the ceremony was rushed so everyone else could get drunk too. One of these dresses probably cost more than the price of hosting the weddings he’d attended.

Beth frowned and went back to looking at the dresses. She had always dreamed of her wedding. She remembered when Hershel had married Annette and Maggie and her had stolen all the bridal magazines and had spend afternoons in the sun deciding exactly what sort of dress they would wear.

"Sorry," Daryl said. He wasn’t sure he would ever understand how Beth’s mind worked, why she cared about things like wedding dresses while the world was going to shit, but the way she looked at the dresses reminded him of how she had looked at the bodies in the mortuary. He didn’t get it, but she said it was beautiful, and her appreciation for such things gave him hope.

She turned to look at him, “no, I’m being silly. They’re just dresses, right? I’m just sad Maggie never got a real wedding, you know, we never got to go dress shopping and she never got to walk down the aisle. And I’ll never get to wear one of these dresses either.”

Daryl wasn’t sure, but he thought Beth looked like she was about to cry. Crying Beth was a thing he never wanted to see, she was hope and love personified, she should never have to be sad.

"So try one on," he said.

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes, “what if we have to run?” she asked. Daryl was usually more concerned with practicality and safety than Beth’s silly whims while on runs.

"The door’s secure and the herd might take hours to pass. Might as well make the best of it."

She stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds, before  her face broke into a grin and she grabbed his arm, pulling him to the couch by the changing rooms.

"Okay, well I need to try a ball gown," she said, "and this one is just so beautiful, I never really liked the drop waist style but it’s so pretty…"

"I said one," Daryl muttered from the couch, already regretting this turn of events.

"You can’t take a girl to a boutique like this and expect her to try on one dress, Daryl," Beth said, smiling at him, and as much as he wanted to glare  back and tell her she couldn’t try on any with that attitude, he couldn’t help but smile back at her.

Beth disappeared into the small dressing room with a poofy white thing. Five minutes later and he was starting to worry she’d never reappear when she came out of the room, one hand behind her back, the other nervously playing with the beading on the waistband. She was beautiful.

"I couldn’t do up the back, can you give me a hand?" she asked, taking a few steps forward.

"I’ll ruin it," he said, holding up his dirty, black hands.

"Oh," she replied.

The two of them stood there for a moment longer, Daryl still trying to find the words to tell her just how beautiful she looked.

"I should just go change," she said, "this was a silly idea."

"No," Daryl said, stepping forward to grab her wrist and spinning her so she was facing him again. His hand cupped her face, tilting her chin so he could meet her eyes.

"Daryl," she barely whispered.

"I’m sorry you won’t get a wedding," he said, "the world deserved to see you like this."

She laughed, “my hair’s a mess and the back isn’t done up and I’m not even getting married,” she said.

"You’re perfect," he replied, running his thumb across her cheek before stepping back, clearing his throat, and letting go of her arm, “‘sides, who says you’ll never get married," his tone back to it’s usually gruffness.

"You do," she said, "you’ve made it pretty clear it’ll never happen, so no weddings in the future for me. I’m gonna go change back."

"Beth you’re eighteen," he said. He should have known trying on wedding dresses would bring them back to this conversation. Stuff like this always did, "we wouldn’t work like that, you know that."

"Why, because I’m too young or because you’re just scared?" she asked, hands on her hips.

Daryl glared indignantly at her, “can’t you just give up on it, find some other guy to pine over, Carl’s still got a crush on you.”

"Carl’s fourteen!"

"Closer to your age than I am," he said.

"Are you sure, because you’re acting closer to his age than yours right now."

"Look, even if it wasn’t inappropriate, we wouldn’t work anyway, I can’t love you like that." She didn’t understand that she needed a guy who could look her in the eye and say ‘I love you’ and Daryl couldn’t do that. The only love Daryl had ever know was the sort of love someone would prioritize under a can of beer and the sort of love that only lasted as long as it took to take of a belt and start whipping him with it. Beth was everything good and Daryl was a fuck up. She didn’t deserve to have that burden over her, "Beth we’re not gonna work so you might as well start movin’ on."

Beth stepped forward, placing her hand on his arm, “I’m not moving on, Daryl. If I’m not marrying you I’m not marrying, simple as that,” she let out a sigh, stepping back again, “so I should probably go change.”


End file.
